I Hate This
by k-nesk
Summary: Shawn is sick of hiding. An unbelievably anticlimactic shassie one-shot. To be continued as desired.
1. Chapter 1

Shawn sighed through his nose, his expression going tense for a fraction of a second before he regained his usual amiable smile. Flirting wasn't what it used to be. "Jules," he said with forced pleasantry. "Why do we keep this up?" He leaned against a nearby support beam and crossed his arms over his chest.

Juliet smiled, rather sincerely, at Shawn. "Keep what up, Shawn?" Her tone was flat, like she was trying to hide the fact that she actually _wanted_ to talk to Shawn, and she wasn't just humouring him.

Shawn kept the grin on his lips. "Oh, Jules, stop playing dumb. It's so tiring. Exhausting, really." Juliet raised an eyebrow, unaware of what Shawn was talking about. He ducked his head down, his eyes shut and his lips curling into a I-don't-want-to-smile-but-I-can't-help-it smile. "Why do we keep pretending like we aren't madly in love, just dying to run off into the sunset together - possibly riding white horses."

Juliet's smile grew and she rested her cheek on her hand. "The horses are a little much, don't you think?"

Shawn chuckled lightly, running a hand through his hair. "You could be right." He opened his mouth to expand, but Lassiter walked by and Shawn forgot what he was talking about. "Lassie!"

Lassiter narrowed his eyes, but Shawn could see the softness he was trying to hide. "Spencer," he greeted tersely. The agitation sounded so real.

Shawn smiled and he wanted it to be genuine, he knew it should be genuine, but he couldn't help the bitterness that was crawling around in his stomach.

Lassiter's mouth remained a tight line. "Where's you're little minion," he hissed, gesturing vaguely to the space next to Shawn.

Shawn cocked his head. "My minion? Is that how you see Gus?"

Lassiter frowned. He was so good at looking uncaring. "Answer my question, Spencer."

"If you must know, Gus is on a retreat for the weekend." Shawn raised his head so that if his eyes were open, which they were not, he would be looking down his nose at Lassiter. "Something...work related, I think. They seem to do this quite often."

Lassiter made some sort of accepting remark, his mouth open in a half-sneer. He turned to Juliet, his expression much more pointed and at ease. "O'Hara, we need to talk. Preferably without this lunatic around." He nodded his head at Shawn.

Shawn's smile lost it's unendingly-happy luster and his gaze fell. He hated this, he really, truly despised it. "Lassie, can we talk outside?" he asked quietly, his gaze still drifting around the floor. Lassiter furrowed his eyebrows and peered down at Shawn.

"...yeah, sure," he agreed, his expression growing worried. He quickly pushed impatience on top of the worry and grabbed Shawn's arm, leading him gruffly out the door.

When they were safely outside, Lassiter's shoulders dropped and his eyes scanned Shawn frantically. He brought a hand up to touch Shawn's cheek gingerly. "Shawn, is something wrong?" He asked, staring into Shawn's eyes with a pinched face.

Shawn swallowed the lump in his throat and brought his gaze up to Lassiter. "Yes, Carlton. Something is wrong." He took Lassiter's hand in his own, drawing it away from his face. "I hate this," he snarled, dropping Lassiter's hand. He grabbed his head and started pacing. "I hate this so much. I hate flirting with Juliet like nothing has changed. I hate looking in your eyes and seeing malice. I hate being so damn lonely all the time." He pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezed shut.

Lassiter was caught off guard. He didn't know what to say. He stayed quiet, looking at Shawn with a small, very sad frown. Shawn kept his gaze low and to the left. He didn't want to see Lassiter right now. He didn't want to look at those blue eyes and wonder why he was doing this.

"I'm going home," Shawn said, his voice barely audible. He turned and stalked off, refusing to look back at Lassiter.

Lassiter didn't call out to Shawn. His shoulders sagged and his expression twisted into flat, disheveled sadness. He shuffled back inside, texting Shawn, "_Be careful._"

Shawn gave the text one, swift look and shoved his phone back into his pocket, refusing to respond. He was too angry. He clambered onto his bike and drove off.

"What was that about?" Juliet asked, obviously more concerned than she had the right to be. Lassiter tried to look unaffected.

"Spencer isn't confident without Gus around or something, so he left."

Juliet didn't look convinced. "And he had to tell you that...outside?"

Lassiter sighed. "Look O'Hara, I don't understand it any better than you do. If you want to know why the idiot does what he does, ask him yourself." Juliet couldn't respond before Lassiter walked away, shutting himself in his office.


	2. Chapter 2

Shawn sped home, refusing to heed Lassiter's request. His driving was reckless and emotional, and it was a miracle that something unfortunate didn't happen. Shawn was ready to argue that this wasn't a miracle, however. He was so tired. This form of pretend wasn't fun and amiable like his psychic abilities. Pretending there was nothing between him and Lassiter was draining. It was miserable.

He shuffled into his apartment- he had moved out of the dry cleaner's- with heavy feet and a heavy heart. He wanted to go to bed. It wasn't even three in the afternoon yet but all he could think of was sleep. What a sweet escape. Shawn knew he couldn't just hop into bed and run away from his problems, though. Henry had taught him that a long time ago.

No, Shawn couldn't just sleep everything away. Instead, he made a pineapple smoothie and turned on some music. He needed to think and he would be damned if anyone interrupted him. He settled into his couch and sipped his drink. This was a bad situation. If word got out that Shawn and Lassiter were more than friends, Lassiter would be ruined. California was pretty accepting as far as the gay community went, but there was no denying the fact that Lassiter was a police officer, and if he wanted to be respected he couldn't be openly gay. The cheif would hesitate with putting Shawn on the same case as Lassiter and Juliet would be heartbroken and embarrassed. Shawn could only think of one logical course of action.

His phone rang. It was Henry.

"Shawn," Henry greeted in an especially gruff manner.

"Hi Dad," Shawn returned over enthusiastically.

"I just wanted to make sure you haven't forgotten about dinner."

Shawn didn't stop to think and immediately repeated, "Dinner?"

He could hear Henry sigh. "Yes, Shawn. You promised you would come over for dinner tonight."

Shawn groaned. "What time did I say I would be over?"

"Seven. Shawn, you promised-"

Another groan. "Dad, I know I promised, but I can't make it." _Carlton gets out at seven._ Shawn knew that Lassie would come over as soon as he possibly could to make sure that everything was okay. He could blow everything if he wasn't home. He needed to be here. He needed to tell Lassiter that it was over.

Henry was quiet for a while. "Fine." Another stint of silence. "I'm disappointed in you, Shawn."

Shawn tried to apologize but Henry hung up. He let out a heavy sigh and tipped his head back. In an attempt at eloquence, today sucked. Shawn could only wait for more to go wrong. He was almost anticipating a call from Juliet to inform him that Lassiter had been shot.

Fortunately, that call didn't come. He got a few calls from Lassiter that were promptly ignored and a text from Gus that Shawn answered rather passively. The hours ticked on with Shawn's music playing quietly to fill up the silence. He thought for hours. He thought about what he might say- that was something that didn't happen very often- and what might happen depending on what was said. He thought about what he knew about Lassiter, and how he would react. He thought about why he was doing this, and if it was the right thing to do.

The hours of thoughts dissolved away like alka seltzer in water when Lassiter opened up the door. He had his own key, of course, and simply let himself in. Shawn heard the click of the lock and shot up at the sound. He stood, but didn't walk to where Lassiter stood. Lassiter walked to him.

"Lassie, I-"

Shawn couldn't finish his sentence. He had forgotten what to say, anyway. Lassiter's lips were on his and they were as chapped as always but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. It never did. They were warm and dry and a little cracked, but Shawn liked that. He always did.

It always happened like this. They would go on for a while, and they would be happy in their own estranged way. Then Shawn would start to get annoyed with it, and he would do something dramatic. Lassiter would worry all day and then find him at his apartment and make up for it with a kiss, sometimes more. Shawn would accept the quasi apology and then they would go on for a while longer, and they would be happy.

Not this time, though.

"No, no, no." Shawn pulled away, his hands on Lassiter's cheeks. He stroked one with his thumb. "We need to talk." Lassiter pulled Shawn back into another kiss, but he pulled away. "Carlton, stop it," He demanded, staring into Lassiter's eyes.

Lassiter knit his eyebrows. "I don't think I understand."

Shawn dropped his hands and fell back onto the couch. He propped his elbows up on his knees and cradled his head in his hands. "We can't keep doing this, Carly."

Lassiter sat down next to Shawn, but kept a small distance between them. He didn't say anything.

"I hate hiding. I like to be showy and proud and dramatic. I want everyone to know that I, Shawn Spencer, have Carlton Lassiter and he's mine. But I can't."

Lassiter frowned and he looked sad. He opened his mouth to say something, but Shawn cut him off.

"It isn't your fault, I know. You don't want this either, I know. The thing is, Lassie, you're the one who gets hurt if we come out, and I can't have that, but as long as we hide, I suffer. I can't have that either." Shawn couldn't look into Lassiter's eyes. He knew that if he did, he would give in. "Carlton, we need to break up."

**_author's note:_**_ would you guys hate me and stop reading if they actually broke up?_


	3. Chapter 3

_**authors note: **sorry for the short-ish and rather crappy chapter. I whipped this up in a couple of hours, it isn't my best work. Next chapter will be better, promise._

* * *

><p>Lassiter was a good cop. Like any good cop, he could handle very compromising information very calmly, and he could force his emotions to go dormant if need be. He could sound confident even if he was sure that he would fail and he could convince nearly anyone he was completely okay when he wasn't. His face had pinched up into a hurt and confused scowl after Shawn's confession, and he looked completely vulnerable and broken for a very short moment. Then, his Cop Instincts kicked in. He tensed very slightly and put on a hard-faced glare. In an instant, he had changed from worried and confused Carly to determined Detective Lassiter. "Spencer." He said. He was using his Cop Voice. It was deep and confident, and Shawn winced at the sound of it coupled with the use of his last name. It reminded him why he was doing this. "I don't think I understand," Lassiter repeated. He turned to face Shawn, curling one leg under him on the couch while the other remained on the floor. Shawn brought his head up to look at Lassiter from the corner of his eye.<p>

"Lassiter." Shawn forced the formality, hoping it would help form distance between them and make this easier. It didn't seem to be working. "I..._really_ like you," he said. "But that's the problem! If I didn't _really _like you, I'd be happy with just sex. It wouldn't matter if no one knew about us, because sex is sex, and sex is good. It's different with you, though. I want people to know that I like you, and you like me back, and I'm not just along for the literal ride. I'm a show off, Lassiter. You know that."

Lassiter nodded, but kept his expression unreadable. "I get it. I really, do. Because I _really_ like you, too, Shawn. I _really_ like you." Lassiter shyly ducked his head down and looked meaningfully into Shawn's eyes to emphasise his point.

And just like that, Shawn broke.

His whole argument shattered and he couldn't make himself care. He grabbed Lassiter's face and smashed their lips together roughly, consumed with flurries of conflicting emotions that he just didn't want to deal with. He maneuvered Lassiter so the detective was laying on his back while Shawn worked on top of him. He tugged at Carlton's lips with his teeth and shoved his tongue into his mouth, mashing as much of himself onto Carlton as he could. They collided in a mess of teeth and tongues and lips and groins, and it worked for them. They moaned and groaned into each other and one of Shawn's hands took a trip down south while Lassiter worked his hands through his hair.

"Shawn," Lassiter breathed in between kisses. "Shawn I don't want you to do something you'll regret."

Shawn didn't stop with his attack. His hand worked over Lassiter's suit pants and he kissed like he would never kiss again. "That would take the fun out of it," he said. Lassiter didn't argue.

* * *

><p>Shawn wasn't particularly proud of himself. He was laying naked in his bed, sprawled out next to a slightly dazed and equally naked Lassiter. He had completely disregarded the plan he had devised prior to the detective's arrival. Sure, Shawn notoriously did things without thinking, but this was a by far the worst thing he could have done without thinking through. Shawn did it, though. Or rather, did <em>him.<em> Lassiter, that is. Sweet Carlton. Not Shawn's brightest move. He lay on his back, frowning at his thoughts. Lassiter's position was similar. He glanced discreetly at Shawn every few moments, but was ignored. After a lengthy silence, Shawn spoke.

"Lassie this...isn't good," he started gracefully. Lassiter mumbled an incoherent response while idly playing with the hairs on his stomach. "I'm serious, Lassiter. I just gave you the king of mixed signals."

Lassiter raised an eyebrow and looked directly at Shawn, but didn't interrupt.

"I still stand by what I said earlier. We can't go on like we have been."

Lassiter looked at the ceiling and sighed. He was quiet for a figurative eternity. Finally, he started to nod slowly and sat up. "I suppose you're right," he said.

He gathered his clothes back up and put them on while Shawn watched him silently from the bed. He re-situated his belt and took a long look at Shawn, staring into his eyes before turning and exiting the bedroom. Shawn didn't follow. He let Lassiter leave quietly; that would be the easiest way. He heard the front door close, but remained still, refusing to move for another couple of minutes. When he did get up, it was with a melancholic huff of breath and slow, lethargic movements. He dressed himself and combed his hair and dragged his feet into the living room, where he grabbed his cell-phone off of the counter and dropped onto the couch.

He had a new text message. It was from Gus.

_How are things with Lassiter?_

Shawn smiled in spite of himself. _Not so good, buddy._ He didn't wait for a response, nor did he plan on elaborating. It was getting late and Shawn was tired. So tired. He sprawled out on the couch and tipped his head back, eyes closed. He wasn't expecting to sleep, and in the end he didn't. There were a few moments were he lost track of himself, but it wasn't real, honest sleep. No, he couldn't sleep. Not tonight.


	4. Chapter 4

**_author's note: _**_sorry this isn't longer, and I didn't update sooner. I've been busy with other projects. If you're wondering, I figure this is somewhere between halfway and two thirds done._

When he awoke, there was one prominent thought in Shawn's mind. _I hate this._ He did, too. He knew he had hurt Lassiter in the worst way possible and he couldn't imagine anything to make him feel worse. He was happier, though. It was a bit twisted, but he was happier nonetheless. He felt lighter now that he wasn't carrying around a secret as big as Lassiter; it was relieving to let go of such a burden. _The truth will set you free,_ Shawn thought bitterly. He laughed. He contemplated insanity, but figured he had lost what bit of a mind he actually had long ago. He sat up groggily and realised that he was on the couch. He must have fallen asleep after Lassiter left. His phone told him that it was 3:12 am, and he had two missed calls and a text.

_Not so good?_ Gus had sent. He must have called when Shawn didn't answer. He was probably asleep by now; it would do no good to call him back. Shawn did anyway.

The phone rang. Once, twice, a third. Gus picked up halfway through the fourth.

"Shawn you must be out of your damn mind," he hissed.

"Gus...," Shawn trailed. His voice was hoarse from sleep and his tone sounded pathetic and listless.

There was a bit of a silence. When he spoke up, Gus sounded worried. "Shawn what's wrong?"

"I broke up with Lassiter."

There was another silence. "Shawn I can't leave this retreat early. I've left early every time because of you. I could get fired."

It was Shawn's turn to be quiet. "I know. I don't know what I expected. I'll be okay."

"You don't sound like you'll be okay."

Silence. "I think I'm going to move."

Gus didn't know what to say. He didn't say anything.

"I've been here for a while," Shawn said. "And it _is_ an actual apartment. I'm tired of having a designated bedroom."

It finally clicked in Gus's mind why Shawn suddenly wanted to move. He had moved not long before things became secretly official between him and Lassiter. The apartment must be lonely without the detective. It had too many memories that would haunt Shawn. "I think Catalina's Cupcakes is up for rent," Gus said after a long pause.

"I'll have to look in the morning."

Their conversation didn't last much longer and Shawn was soon grabbing the neck of a beer and yanking it out of his fridge. He didn't expect to sleep anytime soon, and there wasn't much to do this late at night, so he turned on a movie and chugged a Winter Lager. He took another and drank it more slowly. He had six bottles of beer in total, but those didn't last long so he grabbed the bottle of wine that Lassiter had brought him last week. He didn't care to find a glass and instead took long sips straight from the bottle. When that was gone, he found half a bottle of whiskey.

He feel asleep- or maybe he passed out- near the end of The Breakfast Club. The sleep was heavy and peaceful, but interrupted by harsh sunlight. Gus had opened the blinds. Shawn made a loud, incoherent groan-like noise. He was a little hungover.

"Get out of my hoooouuuusseee," he moaned.

"Shawn, what are you doing?"

"I _was_ sleeping, now I'm trying to ignore the agonizing pain in my head."

"It's one in the afternoon, Shawn." Gus sounded disappointed, if anything.

Shawn squinted up at Gus, the light filtering into his brain and making his head throb. "I had a rough night, buddy. Cut me some slack. Why are you even here?"

"I got worried when you weren't at Psych. You're usually there before noon."

"Not today," Shawn croaked.

Gus helped Shawn out of bed, and shortly after to the bathroom so that he could vomit. He started conversation up again while Shawn laid a cheek on the seat of the toilet.

"What happened?" He asked.

Shawn squeezed his eyes shut. "It's a disaster, Gus. It's like Goldeneye, but _I'm_ Sean Bean and Lassiter is Pierce Brosnan."

"Lassiter is Bond? That is a disaster. Who does that make me?"

"Familky Johnson, I think."

"Who the heck is Familky Johnson?"

"She played Xenia."

"I don't think her name is Familky, Shawn."

Shawn puked again. Gus rubbed his back, frowning. "We can go to Catalina's cupcakes later. If you want."

Shawn nodded. "Sounds good."

Three asprin and a cup of soup later, Shawn felt better. Still dizzy and sick, but better. He agreed to stop by Psych and check the messages before going to Catalina's Cupcakes, and laid in the backseat of the Blueberry while Gus drove. There were a few messages waiting for them, the most important being one from Henry. They had a case. A thirty-ish year old man named Grey Wilson had been murdered outside of a school. Gus called and told Henry that they were busy and couldn't take the case. When he asked why, Gus told him that Shawn wanted to move. He said they would talk later.

_**author's note:** Xenia Onatopp was played by Famke Janssen in Goldeneye._


End file.
